


Show Me My Options

by unadulteratedstorycollector



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Bisexuality, Break Up, Coming Out, F/M, First Kiss, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Healer Draco Malfoy, Healer Harry Potter, Lectures, M/M, amicable break up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-22
Updated: 2018-05-22
Packaged: 2019-05-07 23:11:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14681406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unadulteratedstorycollector/pseuds/unadulteratedstorycollector
Summary: Harry is currently training to be a Healer, which is going great! Except then suddenly the lecturer mentions male pregnancy and Harry is very, very confused. And unfortunately there's only one person who can explain it to him.





	Show Me My Options

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much to the mods for being so patient with me! You're awesome.  
> Thank you to K and J for being brilliant betas and cheerleaders and friends.  
> Thank you to carpemermaid for the amazing prompt.

“There is a pigeon in my room,” Draco Malfoy declares as Harry swings open the door to his room in the Training Halls he is currently calling home. “May I use your shower?” Long fingers gesture to the wet room pod in the corner of Harry’s room. Harry turns to stare at it, not sure he quite understands what Draco is asking. They haven’t spoken, not really, not in depth, since Draco apologised at the beginning of eighth year, forcing Harry to sit down so they could discuss their history. Apparently, Draco’s Mind Healer had suggested talking would help and Draco was taking it very literally. But after that… well, basically nothing. The odd ‘hello’, or vague discussion about a subject they both disliked. Harry hadn’t even known Draco wanted to be a Healer until he’d spotted him in his first lecture.

And now, here he is.

“Um… sorry, you want to…? Because there’s a… uh…” Harry mumbles and Draco rolls his eyes, sweeping past and into the pod. Harry watches, eyes wide, hand still on his door, as a moment later a long, pale arm appears from the door and drops what is obviously _all of Draco’s clothes including his underwear_ onto Harry’s floor. Harry isn’t entirely sure what he’s supposed to do now. The water starts running and he looks at the empty hallway, his mind whirring. Maybe he should take a walk? But then he has got to study for their upcoming exam, and Draco didn’t say he should leave. Although… that’s not an assumption that he can stay. Harry clears his throat, raising his voice slightly. “Do you… uh… should I go?” he asks.

“Why would you do that? If you don’t study you’ll fail Forensic Potion Analysis.” Draco’s voice is deep, amused, and Harry decides not to wonder how Draco knows he’s going to fail Forensic Potion Analysis. He goes to his desk, slumping into his chair and attempting to completely ignore the man in his shower.

A moment later the water stops and Harry freezes. He can hear Draco moving around the pod. The door opens and a subtle smell of something citrusy fills Harry’s bedroom. It’s going to smell like Draco all day now. Harry isn’t sure that he doesn’t like it. He turns in time to see Draco sauntering out, his towel low on his hips, his clothes in his arms.

“Thanks for the shower,” he grins at Harry, winking before leaving the room, the door still wide open.

“Any time,” Harry answers to the empty room, still not sure what just happened.

*****

Harry scowls down at his timetable. Sexual Health and Wellbeing. The class he’s been dreading since he signed up for the Healer Program at the end of eighth year on a whim when he realised he couldn’t deal with any more fighting. To his surprise he’s loved every single moment of it. So far.

Sexual Health and Wellbeing.

It’s not that Harry is adverse to sex. He has a great sex life with Ginny. And sure, sometimes they feel a little more like friends-who-are-fucking than potential-future-life-partners-and-parents-of-what-he-hopes-is-a-large-family. But isn’t that better? He’s going to have to assume yes because there’s no fucking way he’s asking Ron anything about having sex with Ginny. Or anyone, for that matter. Ron doesn’t do well talking about sex.

So, yeah. He’s not worried about thinking about sex, or reading about sex. It’s just… talking about it. With people. He sighs, running his hand through his hair and pushing his glasses back up his nose, hoping that they’ll be talking about it from a strictly medical perspective. Something about the way he knows way too much about Healer Malcolm’s three parrots tells him they won’t. He folds his timetable up, slipping it into his jeans pocket as he stands from his desk, leaving the half eaten bowl of cereal to harden during the day. Because of laziness, not a desire to have crusty bowls of cornflakes in his life.

The walk from his halls to the Wizarding Advancement Facility - WAF, because apparently the Ministry loves an acronym - does nothing to settle the nerves churning in Harry’s stomach. He pushes open the door into the lecture hall and finds a seat at the back where he can hide. Healer Malcolm has bad eyesight. He won’t pick on Harry if he can’t see him. The lecture hall fills quickly, and the second Draco sets foot into the room Harry finds his eyes drawn to him. He has a nice chest. Objectively speaking. Not that Harry has thought about Draco like that. He’s only just started thinking of men like that. It would be a pretty big leap to go from ‘actually, maybe Seamus is right, Dean does have a very nice arse’ to ‘I want to ogle my ex-nemesis-turned-casual-acquaintance’. Too big a leap.

Healer Malcolm starts talking through what they will be covering in the module, and Harry tries to focus on what he’s saying, and not on the memory of water droplets dripping over Draco’s smooth, pale skin. He has a girlfriend. He should not be thinking about pale smooth skin. Well… he should, because Ginny has pale smooth skin. With freckles. He really likes her freckles. Draco doesn’t have freckles. He didn’t actually appear to have any marks on his body at all, except for a significantly faded white scar on his forearm. 

“And then of course we’ll move onto the slightly more difficult, male pregnancy.” Healer Malcolm’s voice interrupts his daydreams, shocking him from his reverie. Male pregnancy? Harry glances around to see if anyone else is as shocked as he is. Nope, they’re all nodding along, agreeing with Healer Malcolm that male pregnancy is only slightly more difficult. Harry swallows his cry of horror, and stares at the front.

He needs to talk to Ron.

*****

Harry finds Ron in the canteen between Defence and Field Healing. If Harry had chosen to be an Auror, he’d be sitting here with Ron moaning about their lecturers and looking over notes. Instead, he flops into the chair next to his best friend and hands him the sandwich he’d bought as a bribe. Ron grins at him, taking a large bite as he settles back in his chair.

“How were lectures?” Ron mumbles through his mouthful. Harry shrugs, his neck uncomfortably stiff as he tries to think of how he’s going to ask his best friend how men can get pregnant. Unfortunately, Healer Malcolm had gone back to the very beginning, STIs, without explaining what he meant by male pregnancy. Because men can’t get pregnant. They don’t have a… there’s no… it doesn’t… Harry frowns. Why would a training professional make things _harder_ to understand? “That good, huh?” Ron says and Harry gives him a grimace.

“It’s just a lot of stuff I don’t really understand…” Harry says, hoping this will be the in that Ron needs. He’ll say ‘oh, yeah, like what?’ and Harry will be able to ask him.

“Yeah… I don’t know how you do it, mate. I wouldn’t touch it with a broomstick. I don’t even like the Field Healing module I have to take,” Ron says, ruining Harry’s plan. Harry smiles, and tries to think of how else he could ask. Ok, sure, they never talk about sex. Mainly because Harry is currently having it with Ron’s baby sister. But this isn’t about sex, this is about pregnancy. And not even female pregnancy. There is literally nothing to do with Ginny in the conversation. He can do it. He takes a deep breath and looks at the air behind Ron’s shoulder.

“Hey, what do you know about male pregnancy?” he asks, all in one breath, and Ron freezes. Harry can’t look at him, not properly, but he can imagine that Ron’s ears and neck and cheeks and _face_ are bright red. Ron really doesn’t like talking about sex, or anything related to sex.

“Uh… nothing…” Ron stutters and Harry’s frown deepens.

“Can men get pregnant?”

“Maybe? Yeah?” Ron looks down at the sandwich in his hand and Harry feels bad. He probably should have waited until Ron had finished eating. “I dunno mate, it’s a pure blood thing. And there have to be two men involved… and… uh… well, I’m straight. So I never bothered… I don’t know!” Ron stumbles through a vague answer and Harry grins. That’s probably about as much information as he’s going to get from Ron. Which is already more than he was expecting. He leans back in his chair and takes a bite out of his own sandwich. He’s going to have to ask someone else, before they move onto it in class and he looks like an idiot.

*****

On reflection, he absolutely can not ask Hermione about pregnancy. Male or female. The last time he made the mistake of asking Hermione about something bodily, he’d ended up in what felt like a lecture on sanitary products. A very embarrassing lecture. He really doesn’t mind talking about bodily functions, he’s training to be healer, but somehow the information coming from Hermione is excruciating. Maybe it’s the way she gestures to her own body when describing things. So, no. He is not asking her about male pregnancy. She might get Ron to model for her so she can gesture.

No, what he needs is someone else who is on the Healer programme, who can be clinical and informative.

Someone who is a man would also be helpful.

And a pure blood. Ron said it was a pure blood thing.

So he needs a male, pure blood, trainee Healer. Well… it’s a good thing he knows one of those.

If only it wasn’t Draco Malfoy.

*****

Draco is in the library. It’s a place that Harry rarely visits because it’s not as nice as the one in Hogwarts. It’s very big, and very clinical, and the chairs are all uncomfortable. Trust Draco to be somewhere uncomfortable.

It doesn’t take long to find him, his hair glowing slightly in the strange library light, his head bowed as he reads a book, occasionally making notes in a notepad he has next to him. He looks almost like a muggle, clearly having embraced the new post-war Malfoy, in a slumpy hoodie and loose jeans. If it wasn’t for the wand tucked behind his ear and the self-filling quill he’s using to make notes, he would fit perfectly in the Muggle university a mile away. 

He doesn’t look up as Harry approaches him, and it isn’t until the empty chair next to Draco’s moves away from the desk in a silent invitation that Harry is sure that Draco knows he’s standing there. He slides into the seat sheepishly, running his hand through his hair and pushing his glasses up his nose even though they haven’t slipped down. He waits for Draco to give him an indication that he’s ready to talk, watching as Draco’s eyes scan words. He’s a beautiful man, not classically good looking, a little too pointy, his nose a little too long, eyes a little too pale. But beautiful. Striking. Ginny is beautiful, but not in a striking way. Sometimes when Draco looks at him, Harry feels like Draco is looking into his soul.

“Did you want something?” Draco asks suddenly. “Or are you just here to stare at me?” Harry quickly looks away, heat spreading up his neck and his legs jittery.

“Uh… I want something… to ask you something… um… about sex…” Harry stutters. Draco looks at him then, his eyes unmoving, boring into Harry, one eyebrow raised and his lips quirking at the corner.

“No! Not that! Fuck… no… um…” Harry splutters, running his hand through his hair and fixing his glasses. He is a confident man. He knows this. He fought a war, he told Kingsley _right to his face_ that he wasn’t going to become an Auror. He fucked Ginny in the bathroom at The Burrow. He is a confident man. Except when he’s in front of Draco Malfoy, apparently. Draco waits for him to stop choking on his own tongue, leaning his chin gracefully on one hand. Harry takes a deep breath, looks down at the table and mumbles, “What do you know about male pregnancy?”

“Oh,” Draco says, seemingly shocked. He pauses for a moment, his eyes ghosting over Harry’s face, making the hairs on Harry’s arms stand on edge. “I suppose you wouldn’t know about that. Considering your upbringing.” Draco doesn’t say it like an insult, like he’s calling Harry stupid. He says it like a fact. Which, Harry supposes, it is.

“No… I… uh…” Harry shuffles in his chair. “No.” Draco watches him for one second more before closing the book he was reading gently and turning to face Harry.

“Male pregnancy, whilst extremely uncommon, is possible for two wizards.” Draco talks like he’s talking to a patient. Like he knows how to explain in more detail, but isn’t going to unless Harry wants him to. Like he doesn’t want to scare Harry. If Harry wasn’t so confused he’d be both impressed and insulted.

“But how?” he asks, leaning slightly closer.

“Magic, Potter…” Draco raises one eyebrow, his lips twisting into a soft smirk and his eyes, his unwavering eyes, on Harry’s. Right. Magic. Because they have that. Harry slumps back in his chair, trying to think. Magic does explain a lot, but there are definitely some vital parts that men are missing that make pregnancy very impossible.

“But… we don’t have… uh…” he gestures at his abdomen in a vague wombly direction. Draco’s eyes follow the movement and he tilts his head to the side, clearly thinking about the best way to explain to Harry. Which Harry appreciates, but he could probably do with the gorey details. Just so he doesn’t make a tit of himself when he finally has a class on it. Draco clearly decides on the words he’s going to say because he clamps his hands together and looks serious.

“A pregnant male would have to take a variety of potions, starting at least a year before they wanted to conceive. It would cause changes in their body that, whilst being somewhat reversible, are difficult, and so a person would have to be committed to having a child,” he states, and Harry nods. Right, so a potion to create a womb, and Harry supposes an egg. And hormones. And an exi-- wait.

“But… how does the baby… um… after nine months?” he stutters, not sure quite how he can be asking this to Draco Malfoy. This is possibly the longest conversation Harry has ever had with him. Draco smiles, his eyes crinkling, flashing like ice, and he leans back.

“They cut it out. Don’t worry, you won’t have to deliver any babies through a meatus.” He laughs, a deep, rolling laugh that feels too warm to be coming from Draco and Harry nods, grinning with him. It’s nice to see Draco laugh like this. Draco eventually stops, and they sit staring at each other for a moment, the air crackling around them. “Did you want anything else?” Draco asks eventually and Harry jumps up, whacking his knee on the desk and tripping over his own feet.

“No! No… that was… thanks for explaining.” Harry waves stupidly, and Draco’s head tilts again. “Thanks.” Harry mutters finally, escaping from the library, leaving Draco and his distracting eyes and mortifying conversations behind him.

*****

The thing is, Harry can’t stop thinking about it. A week later and he’s still thinking. Male pregnancy. Who knew? Apparently everyone but him. Which is a problem, considering his line of work.

But it’s not just that.

Men can have babies. Two men, together, can have babies. Which means he doesn’t necessarily have to choose between having a baby of his own, and being with a man. He knows that he could adopt and be with a man, but something primal, deep in his gut, tells him he wants a baby. A baby with his mother’s eyes and his messy hair. And now he knows he can have that with a man.

Not that he’s only with Ginny because of babies. Obviously. He loves her. Mostly in a romantic way. Sort of. Maybe. And she is sexy. But maybe… he hates to think it, but maybe there just isn’t a future for them as a couple. Maybe they’re just having fun. He’s not shocked by how ok he is with that.

Because now he has a choice. He can be with a woman or a man, and still have a baby. Fuck, he could even have one. He looks down at his stomach, trying to imagine what it would feel like. A soft smile plays on his lips and he gives himself a little rub. On the belly. 

And then his smile drops. He could get pregnant. If he knew how. Beyond potions he has no idea how it works. Which means he has to go and talk to Draco Malfoy. Again.

*****

Draco is in the library. At the same table. Reading a different book. Harry approaches him slowly, not sure what the protocol is. Draco hasn’t said anything to him since the last time Harry accosted him in the library, so Harry isn’t entirely sure how welcome he is. Draco doesn’t look up as he gets closer, but then he’s starting to learn that means nothing. Draco seems to only look at him when he wants to study him. Harry isn’t sure he doesn’t like it.

The chair slides out again, just like last time, and Harry folds himself into it. He takes a moment to watch Draco. Watch the way he’s so focused on something it’s almost like nothing else matters. He has a very small mole on his lip. It’s endearing to see this small mark on an otherwise flawless person. Almost flawless, Harry reminds himself, glancing at where Draco’s arm is rested on the desk. The mark is so faint, nothing more than a pale scar, and Harry touches his forehead without thinking.

“You have more questions,” Draco states suddenly and Harry’s hand drops into his lap. He opens his mouth, not really sure what he’s going to say. What he should say. How he should ask. This isn’t as medical as the last question.

“How easy is it?” he blurts, wincing at how cracked and high his voice comes out. Draco doesn’t look up, but his hand stops, and he puts his quill down.

“Like anything worth doing, it requires a little work.” Draco’s voice is smooth, and Harry doesn’t think he’s ever noticed how a man's’ adam's apple bobs as they talk. He hasn’t ever really looked at someone’s neck before. Not someone male, anyway. He’s always looking at Ginny’s neck. There’s something very sexy about the curve of Draco’s adam’s apple. The thought shocks Harry and he shakes himself before leaning forward slightly.

“But is there anything that can make it easier? Anything that is needed?” He glances around the room before shuffling closer still, his knees bumping against Draco’s thigh. “Ron said it was a pure blood thing?” He waits, watching as Draco breathes, his nostrils flaring slightly.

“Yes,” Draco sighs finally, turning to look at Harry, his eyes flashing with something that Harry knows he doesn’t hate. “In order for two wizards to become pregnant, at least one of them needs to be a pure blood, because that way the magic is definitely strong. And the other has to have magic, so he can’t be a squib. Because the magic of the two of them is what creates the foetus.” Draco’s leg is very warm against Harry’s knee and it’s distracting him, but he thinks he gets it. In order to have a baby he’d have to have a baby with a pure blood. A male pure blood. Like Ron - shudder - or… well… Harry coughs, hoping that the blush creeping up his cheeks isn’t too obvious. He pushes his glasses up his nose and runs his hand through his hair.

“So… you could…?” He mumbles, not able to meet Draco’s eyes. Draco’s head tilts to the side, and he smiles softly.

“Indeed, Harry. I could.” His voice is so soft, so small, like he’s telling Harry a secret and Harry can’t breathe for a moment. And then Draco leans back, his eyes still unblinking as they bore into Harry. “As could any of the Weasley men, Theo Nott, Greg, Marcus Flint, Ernie Macmillan and even Neville Longbottom,” he lists and Harry’s head swims. “If you want a choice.”

“Right…” Harry nods, not really sure what’s happened. Draco watches him for a moment more before turning back to his book. Harry sits with him, watching him read, and trying to figure out what, if anything, just happened.

*****

“I’ve been thinking…” Harry mumbles that evening when he’s curled on his bed with Ginny. They are clothed, both messing around with Quidditch magazines, and Harry suddenly feels like he’s in the room with his sister. No, Ginny is still sexy. With his best friend. Yes. That’s it. Ginny looks up at him from her magazine and smiles.

“Yeah? Me too actually. Do you want to go first?” She sits up, putting the magazine to the side and Harry is suddenly unsure of what he wants to say. He wants to tell her everything. About maybe liking men. About maybe wanting to be with one. About not wanting to be with her. It’s horrible and he feels sick. He doesn’t want to hurt her, but he can’t carry on. Not now that he knows.

“Sure.” He takes a deep breath, his head buzzing and his fingers numb. Fuck it, here it goes. “I like men.” He glances up at her through his fringe and she grins.

“I guessed.” She doesn’t look angry, or upset, and Harry’s mouth goes dry.

“I like women too,” he insists. Because he does. She’s stunning, and warm, and hot. But also, just his best friend.

“I know. Your erections tell me that.” Ginny grins, wiggling her eyebrows. Harry nods at her. Ok, so that part wasn’t so hard. It was terrifying, but Ginny seems to be dealing with it well enough. Now he just has to tell her he’s breaking up with her. He really doesn’t want her to cry. He doesn’t do well when Ginny cries, because it’s so unusual. He takes a deep breath, pushing his glasses up so that they pinch his nose painfully.

“And I don’t want you to think that I don’t like you… you are very sexy…” he stutters out, his tongue too big for his mouth, tears pricking the backs of his eyes. “I just… I’m not sure…”

“You want to break up.” Ginny supplies and he looks up at her, his lip wobbling. He nods, unable to find the words through the lump in his throat. Ginny leans forward, wrapping her arms around him and letting him bury himself into her warmth. “I should have gone first,” she whispers into his hair and he freezes, pulling back to look at her.

“Is everything ok?” he asks, worry spiking at his chest, his back and neck aching. Ginny shakes her head, but she looks relaxed, happy and in control. Like she always does.

“Of course. I was just going to say that I think maybe we should see other people.” She shrugs, playing with Harry’s hair, her eyes warm as she looks at him. “I’ve been feeling for a while like I’m just shagging my best friend. Which is fun and everything, but then Luna got together with Rolf and I think maybe I want something more… y’know?” With every word Harry feels his stomach unravel, something light and clean running through him, and he doesn’t stop the tears as they drip down his face.

“That’s how I feel…” he hiccups. “And I… I love you-- but I don’t think… and I-- I didn’t-- I _don’t_... I just want you to be happy.” The words tumble from his mouth and Ginny leans forward again, tugging him tightly to her and he lets himself cry. Cry with relief. With love. Letting himself cry for the end of something and the possibility of something new.

Once he’s finished, the last tear coming with a shudder he pulls back, giving Ginny a watery smile, relieved to see that she had been crying as well. It’s sort of nice to know that they’re going through this together.

“You ok?” she asks and he nods. He is. He’s very ok. She lets go, leaning back on his bed and picking up a magazine. “What do you think of the new Beater for the Falcons? I reckon he’s too much of a pushover…” Ginny starts to ramble and Harry relaxes, allowing himself to breathe.

*****

Draco is at his usual table, reading and making notes. Maybe Harry should study more. Draco sure seems to do a lot of it. Harry’s chair is already out when he gets to the table and he flops into it. Draco shuts his book immediately, looking at Harry expectantly. Harry grins at him, his glasses sliding down his nose. He pushes them up quickly, without thinking and slides down his chair so that his knee bumps against Draco’s again. He likes the weight of another person against him.

“I’m bisexual.” The word still feels new in his mouth, like he’s just learnt it and his tongue isn’t used to making the shape yet. Draco raises one eyebrow, looking both amused and bored, his eyes on Harry’s in a way that is comfortingly familiar.

“I believe the phrase is ‘No shit, Sherlock’,” Draco drawls and Harry laughs at the subtle tease. Right. It’s probably quite obvious. The only thing they seem to talk about is Harry having a baby. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that it’s probably because Harry wants to have one.

“You’ve seen Sherlock Holmes?” he asks, relaxing into this new reparté they’re having. Draco rolls his eyes, leaning back in his chair, his hoodie rising up slightly and exposing a strip of that perfect skin that Harry remembers from when Draco showered in his room.

“I’ve read Sherlock Holmes,” Draco corrects and Harry nods. Of course he has. Draco, it would seem, is an avid reader. They look at each other for a moment, Draco with his unblinking stare and Harry attempting to not blink to match him.

“So what about you?” Harry finally asks. Because he feels like he shouldn’t be the only one at the table declaring their sexuality. And Harry isn’t about to assume anything. Draco tilts his head to the side, like he’s thinking how best to answer. Harry waits.

“I’m also bisexual,” Draco says, finally. Harry grins, not sure why that statement makes him feel so happy. Surely it doesn’t matter to him who Draco likes. He was just curious. There was nothing more to it. The thought sits in his stomach as he watches Draco return to work, and he’s not entirely sure how true it is.

*****

“So this new guy that Ginny is seeing, what do you think?” Ron asks, a few weeks later, as they sit in the pub after a day of lectures. Harry picks up his pint and shrugs. Ginny had introduced them to her new boyfriend, the Falcons new Beater, Jonny Hardwick, the night before and it seems that Ron had been fixated on it. Jonny was nice, bright and friendly. Harry likes the idea of her being with someone like that.

“He seems nice,” Harry supplies, not sure what else to add. Ron frowns.

“Would you date him?” he asks. Of all the people Harry has told, Ron was the one he was most scared of. Of all the people he’s told, Ron has taken it the best. It’s slipped so much into their general conversation, like Harry has always been out. He pushes his glasses up, running his hand through his hair and thinking. Would he date Jonny? Probably not. But not because Jonny isn’t lovely. Probably because Jonny is too lovely. Too friendly. Too approachable. Harry wants hard lines and sharp edges. Someone to challenge him, like Ginny did at the start, before they became best friends. Before they became complacent.

“No, but I think he’s good for her,” Harry answers and Ron nods, accepting the answer without question.

“So, any clues who you would date? Who’s your type?” Ron asks, looking around the pub. There’s a few people from school sitting and enjoying a drink, relaxed and happy. Harry looks at them with an interest he hadn’t acknowledged at school.

“I dunno,” he says to Ron, not looking at him. “I think I want someone tall. Intelligent. Sparky, like how Ginny is. Someone who argues back…” He can feel Ron looking around the room, ready to be the ultimate wingman. Seamus and Dean are doing shots by the bar, licking salt from each other’s necks before downing shots. Harry grins, before moving on. Ernie is chatting with Luna, and Cho and Hannah Abbott are gesturing madly as Neville looks on with amusement. It’s nice, being in the pub. They should come here more.

“Oh, what about Zabini? He’s tall and argumentative,” Ron asks, cutting through Harry’s gentle contemplation. Harry turns to look at where Ron is pointing. Blaise is sitting in the corner, peering down at a man who had to be at least ten years older than them. He’s handsome, classically so. Too handsome. Harry wants someone with a little more interest, someone beautiful but not perfect.

“Hmm… no. I need someone snarkier…” Harry mutters. Ron nods once, looking around again. Harry watches as Blaise leans over the older man, smirking down at him. It’s a good smirk, but not as good as Draco’s.

“What about Anthony? He can snark…” Ron points to where Anthony is talking to Cormac, clearly saying something hilarious. Funny is good, but Anthony is clearly already pissed. On a Wednesday.

“Nah. I think I want someone who works a little harder. Like you with Hermione.” Harry pulls an apologetic face and Ron nods, looking determined. Harry glances back at Anthony, who is now downing his whole pint. He should work harder, like Draco. He could do with studying.

“I’ve got it!” Ron shouts and Harry looks over to him, his eyes wide, heart pounding as he scans the crowd for blond hair. “Dennis Creevey! He’s perfect! Tall, snarky, smart, hard working.” Ron looks proud of himself and Harry almost feels bad about the face he pulls. Dennis? _Dennis_? Ron has gone crazy.

“No!” Harry almost shouts. “I want someone who treats me like a human! Who doesn’t care that I’m Harry Potter. Someone who looks at the war with disdain and acknowledges that I killed Voldemort but doesn’t worship me for it. Someone—”

“Like Draco?” Ron interrupts and Harry nods enthusiastically.

“Yes! Someone like Draco. Exactly!” He takes a sip from his pint, ignoring the way Ron is looking at him. Ron probably thinks that he’s being picky. But he’s not. He just wants someone witty and smart and who doesn’t treat him like an idiot, but doesn’t treat him like a saint either. Just like Draco. Just… like Draco. Like… fuck. “I like Draco.” He turns to Ron. Ron grins, rolling his eyes goodnaturedly and taking a sip of his pint.

“Obviously.” Ron shrugs. “So now you’ve figured that out, maybe you could tell him? I’m sure he’s dying to know.” Ron finishes his pint, grinning at Harry. Harry nods, downing his own pint and standing up. He needs to go to the library.

*****

Draco is at their table. The chair moves out as Harry walks towards him, but he doesn’t take it. Instead he goes and stands very close to Draco, forcing Draco to look at him. Draco’s eyes flash, staring into Harry and Harry’s heart does a pleasant little jump.

“I have something to say,” Harry says, somewhat redundantly. Draco raises an eyebrow, but stands up so that he’s towering over Harry, his lips twitching into a smile that does something lovely to Harry’s stomach. Harry watches him, watches the head tilt, the smile, the freckle on his lip. He wants to kiss the freckle. He’s never kissed a man before. He wonders if it’s any different.

“Is that what you wanted to say?” Draco asks, his voice low and deep, rumbling through Harry. He leans slightly forward, wanting to be closer.

“No… there’s something else.” He brings his hand to rest on Draco’s arm, steadying himself and Draco bends closer. They are in a library after all. They probably shouldn’t be too loud. “I like you. A lot,” Harry whispers, feeling Draco leaning towards him, his eyes on Draco’s lips. The air around them is full of static, warm and swirling and Harry feels dizzy with it. “I want you. I want to date you. To be with you. I _really_ like you.” 

“I’m so glad you finally figured it out.” Draco grins, and a moment later their lips collide.

Harry presses his body against Draco’s, the muscles hard and defined against Harry, and he moans. Draco’s tongue runs along Harry’s lip and their mouths open, their tongues twisting together. Draco tastes like heat, and Harry runs his hands along his back, over his shoulders, into his hair. He wants more. He wants all of it, all of Draco. His heart pounds and his body is numb with need, and all he can think of, all he can focus on is the feeling of Draco taking over his mind. Filling his space.

After what seems like too short a time, Draco leans back, panting as he rests his forehead against Harry’s. He smiles, a soft, patient smile and Harry knows he’ll never get tired of seeing it. No matter what his options, this is the one he’ll pick.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are seen, read and loved! Thanks for reading!
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! You can show your appreciation for the author in a comment here or on [livejournal](https://harrydracompreg.livejournal.com/311840.html). ♥
> 
> This story is part of an on-going anonymous fest hosted at harrydracompreg on livejournal. The author will be revealed June 17th.


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